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A Siogular 
/'^etarrjorpbosis 


BY 


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MAY EVELYN SKILES 

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THE 


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LONDON 


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II4 Fifth Avenue 

NEW YORK 


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THE Ur^RARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two CoPItM RiiCElVED 

lUN. y 1902 

COPVRIOHT ENTf^Y 

t^C7\ 

(?UAS^ ^x'x.o. No. 

3?y/2 

COPY 0. 


Copyright, igoa 
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THE 

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CONTENTS 




CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Mystery Intimated 5 

II. She Demands an Explanation ... 13 

III. The Advent of Ralph and a Rejected Pro- 

posal . 26 

IV. The Meeting 32 

V. Misunderstandings Arise .... 44 

VI. A Startling Revelation .... 52 

VII. In Which Two Couples Take a Walk . 69 
























A Singular Metamorphosis. 


CHAPTER 1. 

A MYSTERY INTIMATED. 

Miss Fiske had lived with the Tracys sev- 
eral years, and her incipient curiosity concern- 
ing the mystery pertaining to their household 
was becoming more obvious, for mystery there 
certainly was. At specific periods of the year, 
when she advanced towards certain portions of 
the old mansion, she had been deterred in her 
attempts to proceed. It was not that she was 
more curious than the average mortal, but no 
matter how devoid of innate curiosity one is, 
the mere fact that there is something worthy of 
secrecy immediately produces as a natural se- 
quence a suddenly awakened interest and a 
consequent desire of exposition. 

There were only three occupants of the 
home: the two Tracys, brother and sister, and 
Miss Fiske, who had accepted the proffered 


6 A Singular Metamorphosis, 

home on the death of her father, her only near 
surviving relative. It is true there had been an 
intimation of loving services that might be ren- 
dered in return, to the brother and sister, or, 
perhaps, she would not have accepted so readily 
the proffered home without remuneration, 
though it was evident that they needed none, 
and would have been sorely wounded by any 
such offer. Miss Fiske could well have af- 
forded something more substantial than her 
presence. While the two families were not 
consanguineous, there had been intermarriages, 
consequently, more than feelings of friendship 
existed between them. Mr. Tracy seemed to 
the girl of twenty-two almost like a father, 
guardian he had been till she arrived at her 
majority. 

Sometimes Adelina fancied her life similar 
to that portrayed by writers of fiction, the old 
dwelling and its accompanying secretiveness all 
tending to foster this belief. It is not my wish 
to leave the impression that such a trivial cir- 
cumstance could effect a radical transforma- 
tion in so sensible a young person as the one 
in question, nor did she linger over these things 
to the detriment of better thoughts and occu- 


A Mystery. 


7 


pations. There were times, as already men- 
tioned, when it was plain that her presence in 
the western wing of the house would be an in- 
trusion. The cause of this, try as she would, 
could not be divined. Everywhere else she was 
welcomed with joy, for both Harold and Mary 
Tracy had learned to look upon her as the best 
gift vouchsafed to their isolated lives ; not that 
they had ever been really unhappy, except at 
rare intervals, but for years they had held aloof 
from the social gatherings of Deanmouth, 
deeming each other’s society all-sufficient un- 
til the appearance of a third person, who imme- 
diately upset that theory, in fact, rejuvenating 
all that came into contact with her striking 
personality. Prior to her arrival at Dean- 
mouth, there had indeed been one who had 
succumbed to her influence. Poor young fel- 
low ! He had so long brooded over her refusal 
to be in turn influenced in like manner by him 
that his mind had gradually become unbal- 
anced. There had been an attack of fever; 
hence, the combination of these simultaneous 
misfortunes — sickness and disappointment — 
had resulted in the unhinging of a heretofore 
well balanced mind. 


8 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

Had he not been so weakened mentally and 
physically by this protracted illness, this might 
never have occurred. With no vitality ; indeed, 
no wish to regain it, what else could have en- 
sued? Miss Fiske was greatly troubled, re- 
proaching herself constantly, yet conscious of 
her inability to act otherwise — at that time, 
anyway. Had there since been no regret at 
the refusal of so great a love ? Who will say ? 
none knew of it assuredly ; her uniform cheer- 
fulness precluding all thought of regret or 
longing. Were there more resembling her, and 
thus endeavoring to ameliorate the woes of 
others, how far would we be towards the ad- 
vancement of the evolution which is the out- 
come of our existence; but far be it from 
me to intimate that there are not many who 
daily, hourly, submerge all thought of self in 
the one desire of abetting others. Was not that 
one of the ends for which we were created, else 
why permitted to be companions to those with 
the same sensibilities as ourselves? Miss Fiske 
had no notion of embittering her own life or 
that of others in bewailing the past, in idle con- 
jectures of what might have been; nor did 
she deem it at all necessary to spend her time in 


A Mystery. 9 

futile surmises as to the future ills that might 
chance to fall to her lot. 

One day Adelina had returned from her ac- 
customed walk, -without finding Mary in her 
usual place, waiting to welcome her with her 
peculiarly sweet smile, and ready interest in all 
that appertained to the life of a young person. 
Adelina was not to wait long, however, before 
Mary entered the room, with cheeks flushed 
with excitement, but if the former expected any 
disclosures or explanations incident to the cause 
of this agitation, she was destined to disap- 
pointment. Her delicate attempts to elicit in- 
formation proved futile, and apparently passed 
unnoticed, for to effect revelations of a personal 
nature from beings inherently reticent is no 
facile undertaking. Adelina’s question with 
regard to her friend’s welfare met with no re- 
sponse except a rather positive denial as to any 
indisposition. Such a fact as the discomposure 
of Mary was unusual enough to call forth 
comment. 

‘'No, dear; 1 am always well, except, per- 
haps, during the two months you are away 
from me. I am afraid I am very selfish,” Mary 
added, with a loving smile. 


lo A Singular Metamorphosis. 

“Dear Mary, the idea of your ever being 
made selfish by anything is preposterous. I 
have often wondered why you and Harold 
always persist in my going away at the same 
time, when I can see how much you miss me.’' 

“Old people have their whims. You have 
lived with them long enougli to find that out, 
dear.” Adelina’s assurance that her friend 
would never become old was uttered with a 
quiet air, but there was, nevertheless, an in- 
ternal disquietude in the young girl’s mind, for 
which she could not account. 

“I wonder what’s up?” she said to herself. 
“Why is it I am asked, even urged, to be away 
the early part of each summer?” In some un- 
accountable way she connected this with the 
reason of her exclusion from one part of the 
house, though repeatedly assuring herself that 
such a conclusion was irrelevant. Despite her 
manifold efforts to the contrary, this thought 
was continually recurring to her. Mary’s re- 
peated asseverations that she was only suffer- 
ing from lassitude did not deceive Adelina, for 
if she experienced such a sensation her friends 
had never known her to admit it before. Ade- 
lina was grieved to witness the agitation which 


A Mystery. 1 1 

marred the usual serenity of Mary’s coun- 
tenance. 

'‘Ada, dear, play something restful.” Ade- 
lina immediately conceded to her request, and 
selected from her large repertoire the composi- 
tions most liable to drive away unwelcome 
thoughts. 

"How well you play,” said her auditor. 
"How do you manage to make those fingers 
perform their office so well ?” 

"Look at your own, and behold the answer,” 
laughingly replied Adelina. Miss Tracy 
blushed with pleasure, she, too, had performed 
on the piano wonderfully well. 

The life of this young girl forcibly recalled 
to lier her own youth ; perhaps that is why the 
years bring to the older members of the great 
drama of Life a desire of renewing through 
others the part as already enacted by them. 
Harold, at this juncture, appeared on the scene, 
the sound of music, as his sister often told him, 
seeming to reach him no matter where he 
chanced to be. In this instance other thoughts 
claimed his attention. 

"Adelina,” he began, "would you not like to 
go to some livelier place?” 


12 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

“Why, Harold, I’ve just been away.” 

“Your just means a year, nevertheless,” he 
mischievously retorted, “however flattered we 
may be by your implying that the time was 
short.” 

This was the time annually appointed for her 
departure. 


CHAPTER II. 


SHE DEMANDS AN EXPLANATION. 

It all happened so naturally, with such an 
evident desire for her happiness and comfort 
that each time Adelina felt the inability to frus- 
trate the plans of Harold and Mary. How her 
friends could feel that her pleasure was so 
much involved was more than she could deter- 
mine. 

'‘Why should I, who am always well, need 
change, when you two never go away?” Ade- 
lina asked, then added, without leaving time 
for an answer, "it is not quiet for me now.” 

"It is strange how lively one curate can make 
a place. He is really the' only addition to the 
place that I can think of,” rejoined Mr. Tracy, 
half satirically. It will be readily seen that he 
had fhe man's universal love of teasing. 
Though the remark was made in fun, the girl 
betrayed confusion, at which Harold wondered. 
Could it be possible that she had in so short a 
time begun to take an interest in this stranger, 


14 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

or was there some latent thought of that other, 
whose love for her had ended so disastrously 
for himself? Aloud, Harold said, “There’s no 
accounting for the love affairs of a young girl,” 
which sententious remark really expressed his 
inmost thoughts. Miss Fiske had regained her 
equanimity ere long, and showed it by her read- 
iness to indulge in repartee. 

“Harold,” she said, “you get worse every 
year.” 

“In what way am I deteriorating? Ah, ’tis 
looks you doubtless mean,” he ruminatingly re- 
plied. “Not only every year, but every day I 
see my natural head-gear vanishing.” This 
was said as though he was sorely wounded, 
with the pretense of ruefully feeling with cau- 
tion the head which proclaimed to all that the 
extreme paucity of hair was no exaggeration 
on his part. 

“That does not indicate a falling away of 
your lingual powers, however,” saucily re- 
plied Adelina. 

“Fie, every one knows my scarcity of 
words.” 

“Oh, yes, doubtless ; when seen as I chanced 
to view you an hour ago. You were quietly 


An Explanation. 

sleeping over a musty psychology. Yes, I ad- 
mit you were quiet then. Were you illustrating 
the chapter on sleep?” 

“Mary, Mary, can you stand by and hear me 
thus maligned?” 

“Mary knows better than to take up for you. 
Already you presume too much on your past 
right of gliardianship. Even a few. moments 
ago you were trying to dispose of me by send- 
ing me to the farthest corners of the earth.” 

I As “the farthest corners of the earth” meant 
only a score of miles, the good-natured contro- 
versy ended in laughter. A cloud had come 
over the face of Miss Tracy at the last words 
of Adelina. The latter, on reviewing her 
r words, could only attribute it to the mention of 
her departure. If the truth were known, Miss 
T racy had been reminded of something which 
had taken, place prior to the above conversa- 
tion. Adelina knew nothing of this, except in 
so far as it related to the effect as displayed on 
! her friend’s countenance when she had sur- 
' prised her by her sudden entrance to the room, 
f Mary had evidently expected a quiet retreat, 

I and so was unprepared to greet Adelina in an 
j impassive manner. Adelina had felt hurt that 


i6 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

she was not instantly taken into Mary’s confi- 
dence. It was so seldom that Mary showed 
any disposition towards concealment with her. 
Adelina’s thoughts were, however, interrupted 
as far as this was concerned; for Harold and 
Mary were again discussing the contemplated 
trip, and she did not wish to appear ungrateful 
to them for planning what she inwardly ob- 
jected to most decidedly. The little frown that 
followed augured ill for the success of their 
project, nevertheless. There was no need, she 
said, of her going away every May and June. 
The mere fact that this took place at stated 
times each year was monotonous, to say the 
least. If a change was necessary, she felt that 
a change of time alone would be effectual in 
procuring good results. It would break the 
monotony, if nothing more. This looked like 
sheer obstinacy. 

“See what humoring her has done,” said Mr. 
Tracy, with a smile, that did not conceal the 
underlying gravity. The gravity Adelina 
thought was only the result of her alleged ob- 
jection to the carrying out of his purposes. 
Though she felt half reluctant to persevere in 
her own interests, she said to herself that she 


An Explanation. 17 

would not be treated like a baby, and disposed 
of in this summary manner. Aloud she said, 
“If you wish to dispose of me, say so; it cer- 
tainly looks as though you wished to get rid of 
me.” Then, ashamed of her petulant utterance, 
she hastened to add, “It does seem that I might 
be permitted to know what concerns myself. 
What takes place in my absence is no concern 
of mine, but to know why that absence is neces- 
sary seems a most natural desire.” 

The reference to the taking place of some^ 
thing in her absence was not premeditated; in 
fact, Adelina had not considered the signifi- 
cance of her words. That the others had was 
obvious, as was revealed by the questioning 
looks exchanged between brother and sister, in- 
terpreted as wishing to know whether or not 
the other deemed a disclosure to be plausible. 
Adelina looked from one to the other in amaze- 
ment. Had she prepared her words she would 
not have pronounced any more calculated to 
produce consternation. So there was some rea- 
son for her being sent away at a particular 
time ; opposition would not have produced such 
an effect as this. She was undecided as to her 
procedure. She well knew that there is vie- 


i8 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

lory in the manner of accepting defeat. If she 
gracefully retired she would lose all chance of 
whatever explanation that might be rendered to 
her, though she was dubious that any would be 
vouchsafed. In the event of remaining in a 
quiescent attitude, a revelation might be ef- 
fected. If she did the latter and found no hope 
of gratification forthcoming, doubtless she 
would wish she had decided on the other 
course. “Well,” she argued, “Fll apply my 
knowledge; somewhere I have read or heard 
that when you are undecided what to do, don’t 
do anything — a most convenient theory, at any 
rate.” Having justified herself in this conclu- 
sion, she assumed a carefully-studied air of 
complete indifference, which maneuver would, 
she hoped, bring about best results. When 
she was unoccupied and quiet, too, people gen- 
erally inquired if she was sick, which is fre- 
quently the case where an excessive talker is 
concerned. The desired issue was forth- 
coming. 

“Adelina,” said Mr. Tracy, “we had no idea 
that you were concerned about this affair. Had 
we known that you perceived any alteration in 
us, we would long ago have decided that it was 


An Explanation. 19 

best to tell you all.” Mr. Tracy looked as 
though he scarcely knew how to proceed. 
When once he had decided on the right course, 
however, he pursued it without deviation, with- 
out any consideration of personal disinclina- 
tions or inconveniences which might possibly 
accrue. Those who can thus felicitously form 
certain decisions appertaining to their moral 
obligations, and having arrived at such decis- 
ions, can unswervingly follow the proscribed 
mode of conduct, should indeed be content. 

‘Tt is only natural, my child,” resumed Mr. 
Tracy, “that you desire to have revealed to you 
what so nearly concerns you.” To a stranger 
Mr. Tracy’s manner might possibly have pro- 
duced an impression of latent irritation. The 
noblest natures, when endeavoring to overcome 
emotion have often, unfortunately, inadequate 
means of expressing or manifesting the benefi- 
cence actually belonging to them. There was 
no danger of a misunderstanding here; daily 
intercourse with a man like this would bear evi- 
dence of his nobility. After a slight interval 
devoted to consideration as to his manner of 
procedure, he said, “Our wish to have you away 
during May and June was for your own good.” 


20 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

“That I never doubted,” replied Adelina, 
with a grateful look. 

“If you remember, it was three years ago 
that we first proposed your leaving us. Did 
you in no way associate it with something hap- 
pening the same year ?” 

“Dear Harold, when did anything so mo- 
mentous take place?” Harold, reflecting on 
his inability to prepare Adelina, added : 

“It was the year poor Ralph Bamford was 
taken ill. Have you never wondered where he 
has been since then?” As if to cover her con- 
fusion, he quickly added : 

“But of course you have ; your natural kind- 
ness would lead you to conjecture that far. 
His malady has never rendered him dangerous 
to those about him, hence he has remained a 
portion of each year with us; the rest of the 
time with a private family. It was through his 
ravings that we learned the circumstances you 
know so well — better than any. Since that time 
we have always had him with us the months 
when his sickness is at the worst. Once he 
caught a glimpse of you — the effect can readily 
be imagined. We have deemed it expedient to 
send you away to prevent similar attacks.” 


An Explanation. 21 

Mr. Tracy had spoken rapidly, as if to eliminate 
the supposition that his hearer must be equally 
garrulous. Even though the young girl’s feel- 
ings had not been involved in sentimentalities, 
such reminiscences would be painful to any en- 
dowed with the capacity of sympathizing. She 
was really more indifferent regarding her own 
situation than she was at the knowledge of 
pain inevitably inflicted on another by herself. 
The majority of girls would doubtless have 
preferred to evince no interest in the young 
man she had formerly subjugated. Far from 
her was the intention of affecting the anticipat- 
ed lack of interest in his welfare. Even Harold 
and Mary would have thought the desire to 
avert comment justifiable; however, Adelina 
took the opposing course by continuing to 
interrogate them. 

“Is he at all improved of late? Poor boy. I 
shall always feel that I am to blame.” 

“Nonsense, my dear,” returned Harold. 
“Then nothing but the event of Ralph’s re- 
covery will restore your natural buoyancy?” 
Mary gave an admonitory look, in order to curb 
this levity, and also lest the reference to a sup- 
posititious recovery might raise hopes only to 


22 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

be disappointed. Mr. Tracy had spoken as if 
only an ordinary sickness had been at issue, as 
though there was no aberration of the mental 
functions. 

“Harold, is there anything to warrant us in 
thinking he will ever be well again?” Ade- 
lina’s question was not put as calmly as she de- 
ceived herself into believing. Harold regretted 
his impulsive speech, and would feign have re- 
called it. He cast a beseeching look at his sis- 
ter to aid in extricating him from the difficul- 
ties attending his folly. 

“Adelina,” he said, after giving to his sister 
a most reproachful look for not entering the 
breach, “there can as yet be no certainty of 
Ralph’s recoA^ery. We often hope where there 
is nothing to warrant us in so hoping.” 

“You do not expect me to leave, now that I 
know that he is to be here so soon?” the rising 
inflexion alone conveying the idea of interroga- 
tion. 

That an answer was expected, however, was 
made manifest by the girl’s undisguised eager- 
ness to learn the purport of the anticipated re- 
ply. Mary was the first to respond. 

“You are no longer a child, dear, and so must 


23 


An Explanation. 

judge for yourself. Would you prefer remain- 
ing?” 

“I would,” replied Adelina, then feeling how 
laconic was the answer, added, “I would be- 
cause there can be no detriment to him. I shall 
be so careful not to agitate him.” This last was 
said almost pleadingly. 

‘‘And not to let him see you,” cautioned 
Harold. 

“Would he recognize me now?” 

“Yes, doubtless, the mind frequently at such 
times reverts to the past, and appears momen- 
tarily to resume its former activity by similar 
reminiscences.” 

“Then it would be much better if he did not 
know me,” said Adelina, with a praiseworthy 
forgetfulness of self, for it was most obvious 
that time had not proved efibcacious in diminish- 
ing what had once been friendship, but which 
now-had developed into a feeling not so readily 
explained, a feeling which had not matured to 
the ripeness of love. The boundary line was 
there, yet so fine as scarce to be detected. Even 
that may prove to be the salvation of many a 
person’s happiness, a barrier, seemingly of little 
import, yet serving well those reflectively in- 


24 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

dined. To the impulsive, easily led by pity or 
personal feelings, it would be of less moment, 
save in prolonging the interval of decision — 
which fact alone might chance to prove invalu- 
able. Adelina would assuredly have been placed 
under the former category, though sympathy 
did frequently prompt the desire of effecting 
what had only the semblance of working 
the earliest good. It was not long, however, 
that indecision troubled her. Added to her de- 
sire of performing some good office for Ralph, 
there was in this case a wish to gratify herself. 
The former cause would have been sufficient to 
make Adelina form her opinion about remain- 
ing. The ability of doing good, or even the at- 
tempt to do so, without ulterior motives — un- 
less the knowledge of well-performed duty be 
called a motive — was enough to secure Ade- 
lina’s partisanship in any undertaking of mercy. 

“So I am to stay,” cried she, after the dis- 
cussion had ended to her satisfaction. 

“You generally do manage to have your 
way,” smilingly replied Mary. 

“There ; that is what I have been contending 
for the past hour,” put in Mr. Tracy. 


An Explanation. 


25 


‘‘Oh, indeed. I thought the argument began 
by discussing your silence,” returned Adelina. 

“Do any of you know that it is time for tea ?” 
As this seemed remote from the subject in hand, 
his young friend exclaimed : 

“That is right, change the subject. Here is 
one of the many you addressed who knows how 
late it is.” She was half-way up the stairs be- 
fore the others appeared in the hall. Leaning 
over the banister, she called back, laughingly : 

“Talking does make one hungry, Harold; 
no wonder you mentioned tea. How you have 
talked.” 


CHAPTER III. 


THE ADVENT OF RALPH AND A REJECTED PRO- 
POSAL. 

There appeared to be a tacit understanding 
between the Tracys and Adelina that there 
should be no further mention of the advent of 
Ralph Bamford. Adelina knew that he was 
coming soon; that was all. From her non- 
chalant manner none could descry her real in- 
terest in the affair. Harold and Mary were not 
deceived, however, by any outward calmness. 
Too well did they know the young girl not to 
be cognizant of her deep capacity for feeling, 
even though there was no reason for emotion 
other than that of sympathy, that sympathy 
which would have been rendered to any to 
whom it was requisite or welcome. 

A few days following the conversation last 
related, Adelina was walking on the lawn, when 
through the shrubbery she espied a carriage 
which had stopped just outside the drive. From 
the carriage a tall man first alighted, and paused 
to wait for a second person to issue from the in- 


A Rejected Proposal. 27 

terior. The former was soon joined by one 
who was clearly a much younger man, though 
even from Adelina’s point of view, it could be 
seen that he was not as agile as his senior. 
“Ralph,” the young girl gasped, then added, 
“yes, it is he.” Suddenly she felt the most un- 
reasoning dread of being discovered, not only 
by the newcomers, but by anyone, for that mat- 
ter. It was natural that she should wish 
her presence to escape Ralph’s observation until 
a more opportune time, fearing the result of 
such a recognition would be of the greatest det- 
riment to him physically, mentally, she did not 
even allow herself to think. It was strange 
how immediate was Adelina’s recognition of 
the young man — not, as was afterwards 
learned, that he had suffered in looks — but a 
failure to recognize him at that distance would 
have been most natural, despite the knowledge 
of his near arrival. Now that he had come, her 
first and only impulse was to put as much space 
as possible between him and herself. She ran 
until she reached a rustic seat, where she sank 
breathless, laughing at her absurd timidity — 
that trait not being a dominant characteristic. 
Ere long she saw a young man emerging from 


28 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

one of the summer houses. He seemed to be 
engaged in a fruitless search. When he in turn 
discovered Adelina, a glad look of triumph fol- 
lowed. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he 
said, quickly finding a place beside her. 

“Where did you expect to find me? Under 
the seats of the summer house, most likely,” 
Adelina retorted. 

“I think I’ve looked everywhere, as I said.” 

This remark was made with the most open 
assumption of patience ; indeed, so transparent 
was the effort that Adelina greeted the reply 
with a merry laugh, in which Mr. Burnett 
joined, perforce. 

“Adelina,” he said, “I have wanted an oppor- 
tunity of seeing you alone.” 

“There; it’s coming,” said the girl to herself, 
resignedly. 

“Will you not reconsider your answer of last 
Friday?” Mr. Burnett continued. 

“Don’t ask me to reconsider, or even remem- 
ber all of my thoughtless speeches,” remarked 
Adelina faintly, knowing the rendition of the 
programme to follow as though the parts had 
been assigned to each one. 


A Rejected Proposal. 29 

“You might at least listen/’ pleaded the 
young man. 

“Listen,” she said vehemently, “why, I 
could not very well help it, as I have not yet lost 
the sense of hearing.” 

“Ah, that is sufficient answer; if you loved 
you could not be frivolous.” 

“I do love,” she said with such simplicity, 
that it is small wonder if Mr. Burnett felt en- 
couraged and eagerly asked : 

“Is that true, Adelina?” 

Seeing her mistake, Adelina hastened to add : 

“Why, yes ; I love Harold and Mary, 
and ” 

“Pshaw ! I thought you meant some one.” 

“Meaning yourself ? No doubt the two men- 
tioned would be delighted at being designated 
nonentities.” Then, seeing that the young man 
was really wounded, she said impatiently : 

“Why can’t you love some one else?” 

The fact that she was inflicting pain unwill- 
ingly and helplessly made her half angry with 
him. 

“There are plenty of nice girls — Lucy, 
Alice ” 


30 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

‘That will do,” Mr. Burnett interrupted 
with dignity. “Love is not made to order.” 

“Not even when I order it?” Adelina said, 
with a bewitching air. Then, suddenly discov- 
ering her advantage, added, “If you really care 
for me you would do as I wish.” 

But for the timely arrival of a servant on the 
scene, bearing a message for Miss Fiske, there 
is no determining when the above conversation 
would have ended. One of the disputants was 
longing to put an end to it as speedily as possi- 
ble, or at least, as quickly as was consistent 
with even a show of politeness ; the other was 
putting forth every effort to prolong it without 
impunity. To risk all would be to lose all. He 
was not certain that there was anything to lose, 
that anything had ever been gained. For all 
the benefit accruing to either from the conver- 
sation it might as well have never taken place. 
As they leisurely strolled towards the house, 
both remained silent, neither desiring to break 
the silence, whether from feelings of constraint 
or from varied emotions, it would be difficult to 
learn. While Adelina’s thoughts were, perhaps, 
less sad than those of her admirer, they were 
at least, far from enviable, commingled as they 


A Rejected Proposal. 31 

were with this recent event, and the one of for- 
mer years. Doubtless she was thinking partly 
of what Mr. Burnett was thinking of her, and 
what she would say to that other whose arrival 
she had just witnessed. Tom Burnett had evi- 
dently concluded that ‘hhe better part of valor 
is discretion,” for there was no pursuance of 
the talk, even when he found they were nearing 
the doorway. Only a quiet “good-by” from 
him. That was all he said to the girl who knew 
she had his happiness in her keeping, but whom 
he never once blamed, knowing with her con- 
science was all, and that she would follow its 
dictates, meriting thus always the love he had 
chosen to bestow upon her. Chosen? No; 
surely, that word is misapplied, for who ever 
chooses to love? Does love not rather come 
unawares to the non-suspecting? and does not 
the word rightly interpreted tell of an utter 
forgetfulness of self, implying only disinter- 
ested feelings; precluding entirely the idea of 
selection, which alone would mean something 
premeditated ? 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE MEETING. 

Adelina found Mary awaiting her, and, 
though, secretly delighting in the interruption, 
learned that there was really no reason for her 
being summoned, except Mary’s wish to discuss 
recent events, and the desire to hasten a meet- 
ing between the two young people. The young 
girl read the question Mary longed to ask, and 
answered it accordingly, ‘T have seen him.” 

‘‘He is much better than we ever dared to 
expect. He seems never to have been troubled 
by the strange malady we know has existed, 
save for one illusion. Twice he has spoken of 
his indebtedness to us for the care of his 
brother. It is clearly a case of mistaken iden- 
tity. Ralph thinks the man, for whom we have 
cared, was his brother. As i said, his loss of 
such consciousness, is all that remains of his 
former trouble. Perhaps he did have a 
brother,” Mary ended thoughtfully. 

“Yes,” replied Adelina, “he has mentioned a 


The Meeting. 33 

brother, though I have often wondered why he 
never told me more concerning him.” 

^‘The gentleman who accompanied Ralph is 
his physician, Dr. Ellis. He said that Ralph 
was so anxious to come, and that he was so im- 
prudent he needed some one to watch him.” 

“Did Dr. Ellis use the word ‘watch' before 
Ralph?” asked Adelina indignantly. 

“Yes, but only to convey physical deficiency.” 

“And where is Ralph now?” asked Adelina. 

“With Harold, in the library. Let us go there 
now. Dr. Ellis left on the plea of other en- 
gagements, but partly, I think, to leave us alone 
with Ralph this first evening. Aside from pro- 
fessional feelings, he seems to take the greatest 
interest in Ralph.” 

By this time the speakers had reached the 
library door, where Mary paused as if to give 
her young friend a moment for preparation. 
Adelina, however, desired to make a speedy 
entrance, which would admit of no time for 
deliberation. She felt that if she had time to 
consider the prospective meeting, a feeling of 
constraint would follow. The most carefully 
prepared language remains unuttered when one 
is brought face to face with the contingency. 


34 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

Memory fails, leaving only a trace of forgotten 
eloquence, which is sufficient to render us 
speechless, knowing as we do, that aught said 
now, must ever be inferior to the expressions 
formulated* in quieter moments. Adelina 
straightway entered the room. Ralph turned 
quickly, as' though in recognition of her step. 
He came eagerly forward and took the prof- 
fered hand, looking searchingly into the girl’s 
eyes. What he read there was not the indif- 
ference he had contemplated, prionto his arrival 
at Deanmouth. A faint flush suffused Ade- 
lina’s cheek, and, as if to conceal her emotion, 
she uttered some polite triviality, which, it is 
safe to say, was not remembered by her. Har- 
old left them, ostensibly on some- forgotten 
errand. 

Adelina looked after his retreating form 
longingly, but remembered that Mary had not 
forsaken her. To her surprise, she found, on 
glancing around, that Mary had not even en- 
tered with her. Ralph Bamford had differing 
views as to the desirability of additional com- 
pany, as was testified by his readiness to enter 
into conversation, while inwardly blessing Har- 
old for his considerate departure. 


35 


The Meeting. 

It is such a pleasure to be here,” he said. 
‘‘How I have longed to see you.” Then, afraid 
of his own audacity, emended the last sentence 
by saying: “Yes, I have often thought of the 
old place and its occupants.” 

“It seems to me that we might have been 
mentioned first, besides it is not long since you 
saw the place.” 

“Only a matter of three years. There is, I 
believe, one accepted mode for the computation 
of time, which is universally utilized by the en- 
lightened, however we may disagree in the 
lapse of it. To me three years is no short 
time.” 

“What can you mean? You were ” 

Adelina broke off, horrified at her want of 
thought; for had she not promised to be all 
carefulness ? 

Already she found herself endeavoring to 
recall to Ralph his other sojourns at the same 
place under such inauspicious circumstances. 
She could not proceed with the self-interrupted 
sentence, even though she was aware that the 
pause was noticed by Ralph ; yet, surely, it was 
but natural that Adelina should remind him of 
his former visits to the place. He had seemed 


36 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

so like his old self that she was certain he 
would remember the visit of only a year ago. 
She scarce knew what to answer, when Ralph 
said with a most surprised look : 

“What is the matter? Have I returned 
sooner than you expected?’' 

There was reproach as well as surprise in the 
query. Adelina was pained by the lapse of 
memory, supposedly inconsistent with the 
soundness of mind she had commenced tO' think 
had been restored to him. Of course the young 
man attributed her silence to indifference, 
which state she was far from feeling. The situ- 
ation was certainly a strange one. There was 
the lover hanging on the anticipated reply, and 
longing for a denial of his hasty words; the 
woman fearing to utter some word which 
would either wound him, or intensify the men- 
tal failure of which the young man himself was 
totally oblivious. As soon as Adelina per- 
ceived her error, she tried to retrieve it by 
diverting Ralph’s attention, refraining care- 
fully from setting him aright concerning his 
mistaken asseveration ; but the young man was 
not to be diverted by other channels of thought 
from the question at issue. Having noted 


37 


The Meeting. 

Adelina’s confusion, he had asked for the cause, 
and finding one question unanswered, had sup- 
plemented it by another. He was growing im- 
patient. Why did Adelina act so unlike herself ? 
Surely, there was nothing to conceal. It was 
not as though he was a stranger; though, to 
his amazement, he found he was being treated 
as such; why, he had known her capable of 
giving the most evasive replies in the sweetest 
manner to the most direct interrogations, and 
never had she appeared so ill at ease to him. 
Did two persons ever more thoroughly misun- 
derstand each other, or so fail in penetrating 
the other’s thoughts ? There could not even be 
a reconciliation when no wrong had been com- 
mitted ; there was only the breach which neither 
could cross. Only a feeling of misery, blank 
and hopeless remained, which it seemed time 
only could assuage. 

Adelina felt as strongly as Ralph her utter 
inability to talk ; the mere fact that she was so 
thoroughly misunderstood widened the breach. 
If she could only have explained to Ralph the 
cause of her hesitation, — but no, she knew she 
never could. 

Even if Ralph was ever his true self again. 


38 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

Adelina knew that even to spare herself she 
would never hurt him by such an explanation, 
an explanation entailing a revelation of the 
symptoms and various stages of his disease. If 
it necessitated such indelicacy, she felt that she 
would prefer being misjudged. This was only 
theory. She had not been put to the test. How 
can we answer for what we shall do in a given 
instance? Adelina was the first to rally, and 
was beginning to speak, when the door-knob 
was imperatively rattled by something intent 
upon letting its wants be known. 

“It must be Watch,” said Adelina, after she 
had discovered whence the sound issued. 

“An intelligent dog,” answered Ralph, “and 
certainly very active for his years. I am 
ashamed to say I had almost forgotten his 
existence.” 

“You wouldn’t if you stayed long,” said 
Adelina, as she hastened to the door. Accus- 
tomed as she was to the rather rough canine 
greetings, she concealed herself behind the door 
without looking at the supposed dog as she 
opened a way for his entrance. A small voice 
said, “I want to tome in.” 

“That much is evident,” laughingly put in 


The Meeting. 39 

Ralph, as Adelina emerged from her hiding 
place. 

''Is that you, Pet?” she asked. "Come and 
speak to Mr. Bamford.” 

"Is 00 mawwied to him?” asked the child, 
innocently. 

"If we only were,” said Ralph to himself, 
perhaps not intended to be in so low a tone as 
not to reach the desired quarter. 

"Do 00 weally want to be?” questioned the 
child, of Ralph, who had drawn her onto his 
knee. 

"Did you come alone?” was the irrelevant 
answer. 

" Ts ; Pse not afwaid. I tan thee my houth 
fwom here.” 

"Our rector, Mr. Bayne, is her father,” ex- 
plained Adelina. "We are the greatest of 
friends,” she added. 

"Who? You and Mr. Bayne?” asked Ralph. 

"No, the child, of course.” 

Pet, not caring to be excluded from the con- 
versation, and feeling a monopoly unfair, per- 
sisted in obtaining a solution to the subject 
uppermost in her baby mind. 


40 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

“Won’t oo tell Pet?” she said. “Do oo want 
to det mawwied ?” 

Receiving still no reply, and in no wise 
diverted from her curiosity, she continued to 
enlarge on the subject. 

“Papa ’ll mawwy oo. Pll wun ast him now. 
Pet fordets,” she said, slipping off Ralph’s knee 
ere he was aware of her intention. 

“Oh, stop her,” cried Adelina, with energy, 
but so horrified that she could do nothing her- 
self to intercept the childish form. Ralph hur- 
ried to the door just in time, and caught the 
child in his arms. 

She looked disappointed. 

“Pet fordets,” she reiterated. 

“You will never get me to believe that,’' 
laughed Ralph, remembering her former per- 
severance. Seeing that Pet did not under- 
stand, he kissed her and said he wanted her to 
stay with him. Adelina had retired to the far- 
thest corner of the room. At first, she was half 
angry with the child ; but later, amusement was 
the predominating sensation. Presently Pet’s 
voice was heard asking where Ada was, so the 
latter stepped forward. Ralph’s eyes were 
dancing mischievously. 


The Meeting. 


41 


“You do not mind the baby's prattle, 
surely?" said he, lest Adelina would deem his 
ill-concealed merriment untimely and unpre- 
cedented. 

The child had brought a change of atmos- 
phere. The two older persons seemed to 
breathe a different air. Adelina had been 
troubled at Pet’s extreme candor; though, 
meanwhile admiring the parents who so early 
had instilled that virtue. Pet had looked with 
wide-eyed wonder at the two who could wish 
her to keep anything from her father. 

“I always tell papa evwything," she urged. 

“But this is not about yourself, dear," said 
Adelina, trying to put it so the little one would 
understand. 

“But I thaw it," was the answer. 

“Saw it?" said Adelina; then added severe- 
ly, “you saw nothing." 

“I did thee he wanted to mawwy 00," 
sobbed the child, “ ’tause he looked happy." 

Adelina found herself floundering in a sea 
of difficulties, so for answer, only kissed the 
child ; and, to put and end decisively to further 
argument, said : 


42 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

‘Tet, dear, let us see if Ralph has goodies in 
his pocket.” 

The little one understood. Whatever wrong 
she had committed was forgiven. She glanced 
at Ralph, for it never occurred to her that Ade- 
lina’s suggestion might prove fallacious. Her 
implicit confidence in another’s word gave evi- 
dence of the training received; that the child 
was not accustomed to being deceived in trifles 
was obvious. When it was found that Ralph 
could produce the desired sweetmeats, Adelina 
asked, teasingly : 

“Have you never overcome your boyish 
weakness ?” 

“Fortunately for you I have not. Your 
veracity was at stake. It would have served 
you right if I had refused to resign the desired 
articles, after your putting an abrupt terminus 
to an absorbing topic, ingeniously introduced.” 

Such audacity in referring to the subject 
Adelina fondly thought she had brought to an 
ignominious end quite took away her breath. 

“Yes,” pursued Ralph reflectively, “that 
child is a genius ; added to that is the persever- 
ance requisite to complete success.” 


The Meeting. 43 

“Those two are incorrigible,” murmured 
Adelina. 

“No, we’re not,” objected the irrepressible 
Pet, “we’re in chair. Tan’t 00 thee uth?” She 
had all of the child’s impatience of incorrect 
statements. 

Ralph shook with laughter at this naive 
utterance. 

“I’m doin’ home,” said Pet, waiting, how- 
ever, with the expectation of an invitation to 
remain. 

As her elders vouchsafed no reply, she re- 
peated the information, and slid off Ralph’s 
knee. 

Ralph who felt that he had probably gone far 
enough, simply expressed a desire to have her 
return very soon. 

“I will tome,” she promptly answered. Then, 
waiting to be kissed by both, she ran off, calling 
back sweetly : 

“I’ll not tell papa if 00 don’t want me to.” 


CHAPTER V. 


MISUNDERSTANDINGS ARISE. 

That night was a restless night for Adelina. 
There were mysteries she could not unravel. 
She could not reconcile Ralph’s lapse of mem- 
ory with the perfect self-poise subsequently 
evinced. She knew that a single instance of 
forgetfulness would not have been perceived by 
her with such readiness had it not been for ante- 
cedent knowledge of mental derangement. 
Mernory had not proved treacherous regarding 
any other fact, however trivial, which had been 
mentioned in his hearing. There was another 
thing which troubled Adelina — Ralph’s as- 
sumption that Harold and Mary were the bene- 
factors, not of himself, but of the brother whom 
neither had seen. She had not wanted to talk 
the matter over again with her friends. It 
would only accentuate the sad feelings of each. 
She wanted time (of which commodity she 
soon had a sufficiency) to think it all over in 
the solitude of her own room. Once there, she 


A Misunderstanding. 45 

found it equally as difficult to arrive at any just 
estimate of the truth. She dreamed that Ralph 
appeared with his brother, and commanded her 
sternly to choose between them. 

She awoke with a shudder to find the sun 
shining- brightly in her window, as if to beseech 
her to come out and enjoy his glories. She 
quickly responded to the manifest entreaty, 
only too thankful to discover that the long 
night — a night of troubled thought and dreams, 
was over. When at intervals of conscious- 
ness, she had tried to concentrate her vagrant 
thoughts to some purpose, she could only 
vaguely feel that there was something she was 
incapable of adverting ; and so, when morning 
came at last, she was determined to accept such 
diversion as was offered. 

Accordingly, arrayed in one of her most be- 
coming gowns, she descended the stairs, and 
walked out on the veranda. It was characteris- 
tic of her, that when she was inwardly troubled 
she invariably took the greatest care in making 
her toilet, perhaps feeling that her spirits might 
ultimately assume the nature of her garb. 

Adelina was soon joined by Ralph, who 
looked radiantly happy. He evidently thought 


46 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

that her propinquity was enough for the pres- 
ent, let the future bring what it might. He had 
so long been denied a sight of her, that it is to 
be doubted whether he even gave that future a 
thought. His buoyancy could not be otherwise 
than infectious; added to that were Adelina’s 
strenuous efforts to shake off the unwelcome 
thoughts of the preceding night, to which she 
knew that she would succumb if left to herself 
— without the incentive of trying to appear 
cheerful before. others. Those imbued with such 
altruism have some recompense even in this 
world, where reward so seldom seems to come 
for right doing — that of submerging their own 
woes in the happiness or reverses of others. 

It was later in the morning that Adelina had 
further cause for sorrow. She had gone to her 
room for a volume of poems in order to find a 
quotation which Ralph had laughingly insisted 
she had misquoted. Adelina, in turn, asserted 
that he would regret that she had gone only to 
prove him wrong. Sad he certainly did look 
when she returned. 

He was holding a bit of paper in his hand, as 
if deliberating whether he ought to continue its 
perusal or not. He was standing where she left 


A Misunderstanding. /i.y 

him, but how different were his expression and 
manner. When she turned to him with a look 
of inquiry, his only answer was : 

“I had not thought you could deceive me.” 

Deceive him? When had she ever deceived 
him ? She knew she had never done that, even 
before she had begun to care for him, and now 
that she was beginning to care, surely it was 
cruel to accuse her thus. 

He mistook her silence for confirmation of 
her guilt, for was it not her own handwriting 
which he held ? And could you censure him for 
believing his senses? 

Adelina was secretly blaming him for this 
lack of faith, which was only natural as she was 
the one doubted, and consequently, knew her 
own innocence. She could not prove the falsity 
of her alleged imperfection, until she heard the 
charges against her, and her pride kept her si- 
lent for a time. She disdained the idea of ask- 
ing the question which would tell her all. How 
beautiful she looked. Even Ralph was thinking 
of her beauty, her proud, refined face appeal- 
ing as it did to his sense of the esthetic. How 
he hated himself for worshiping the external 
beauty until he could penetrate beneath the sur- 


4^ A Singular Metamorphosis. 

face and see if she were really worthy of being 
revered. Ralph viciously crumpled the unof- 
fending paper in his hand. Had it not been the 
cause of sudden, maddening pain to him ? Ade- 
lina’s absence had, at most, been only a question 
of a few minutes. Her bewildered look, on her 
return, ought to have been sufficient to reassure 
Ralph, and that probably was the reason that 
he eventually held the fragment of paper 
towards her. Adelina took it, and with a 
blanching face, read an excerpt from her jour- 
nal. It had probably blown from the open win- 
dow of her room. She remembered that she 
had carelessly left her writing on a desk quite 
near the window. The writing was to the pur- 
port that she loved some one whose mind was 
affected, but the bare statement was unaccom- 
panied by any appellation which might lead to 
its elucidation. 

Adelina’s first thought was : ‘‘Does he know 
he has been in that state?” But, of course, he 
must, or he would not have applied the sentence 
to himself. She could see that such a circum- 
stance would wound him intensely, for she now 
believed he was aware of his deficiency. 

She felt so regretful of her own carelessness, 


A Misunderstanding. 49 

that she seemed to overlook the fact that he had 
accused her most wrongfully, and was desirous 
of making such reparation as lay in her power. 

“Ada, you might at least have told me there 
was another.” 

“Another what?” she returned with aston- 
ishment. 

It was Ralph’s turn to betray excessive 
surprise. 

“If you loved some one else you could have 
told me. That, surely, was due me.” 

“To whom do you think my unfortunate 
words apply?” 

It suddenly occurred to her that it might be 
possible for Ralph to assume that a third per- 
son was involved. She was glad that Ralph 
should be in ignorance of his real condition, for 
she now began to think he was; yet she cer- 
tainly could not do herself the* injustice of let- 
ting Ralph think she had voluntarily deceived 
him to the extent of permitting him to believe 
there was another in whom she was interested. 

The previous evening Adelina had acknowl- 
edged to Ralph, in response to his eager in- 
quiry, the fallacy of what she was pleased to 


50 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

term his absurd beliefs in her power to attract 
others — not that he believed it, but he had been 
led to believe that she did not love any one else. 
It began to dawn on Adelina that Ralph might 
not have applied the words to himself at all. 
Here was a dilemma. She could not let Ralph 
impute such a deception to her. A thought 
flashed across her mind — why not let Dr. Ellis 
impart the whole sad story to Ralph ? She felt 
that it was cowardly in her, and yet she realized 
her own impotence to assume the task. A more 
potent cause towards disinclination for the un- 
dertaking was her complete ignorance of the 
effect of such a disclosure to Ralph. Poor, be- 
wildered fellow. It seemed to him that every- 
one had changed. Adelina’s eyes filled with 
tears. She averted her face, not too soon, how- 
ever, for Ralph to note their existence. 

“Forgive me,” he said brokenly and humbly; 
“but this means so much to me.” 

“Here is Dr. Ellis now. Ask him to tell you 
all.” 

“Dr. Ellis? What can he know of our 
affairs ?” 

“Nevertheless, Ralph, do as I say. If he re- 


A Misunderstanding. 51 

fuses to tell you, then I must also. I leave you 
with him.’’ 

Giving a few hasty words of explanation to 
the doctor, she hastened away. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A STARTLING REVELATION. 

Adelina hurried away in order to disclose to 
Harold and Mary the decision she had made; 
namely, the wisdom of no longer concealing 
from Ralph his previous condition. On first 
thoughts, this seemed most unwise; and yet, 
assuredly, it would be far less cruel than to let 
Ralph continue in the belief that there existed 
in the woman he loved that which would lead 
him to an entire loss of confidence. Adelina 
knew that if she persisted in claiming the mat- 
ter inexplicable, it would only throw a deeper 
shadow on the affair, and she could not make 
the pretense that Ralph had no right to question 
her. 

“Adelina,” said Harold, “this appears the 
right thing, in fact, the only thing to be done. 
I think uncertainty is one of the worst ills that 
falls to the lot of mortals. Now there will be 
at least something tangible. I am sure poor 
Ralph has found something wanting in all of 


A Startling Revelation. 


53 


us. The hardest part was in deciding what 
should be done. And now, that you have de- 
cided, do not trouble yourself with the out- 
come.” 

A useless caution, for he was not destined to 
profit by it himself. 

“But, was I right in shifting the responsibil- 
ity on Dr. Ellis ?” 

“Certainly; none but a physician would be 
capable of understanding the effect on Ralph’s 
constitution. Ellis has also made psychology 
a life-long study.” 

“How did you discover that ? Through your 
natural curiosity, of course,” returned Adelina, 
with a feeble attempt to smile. 

It could readily be seen that no matter 
how much the three conversed, thus trying to 
divert ’the other’s thoughts, each was thinking 
of the conversation transpiring not far from 
them. 

“I cannot think Ralph will be the worse for 
this knowledge,” said Mary, unconsciously ig- 
noring the fact that Harold and Adelina had 
opened the way for a change of topic, by re- 
verting to the subject which more closely con- 
cerned them than a biography of Dr. Ellis, 


54 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

worthy man that he was. They little knew how 
much he was gleaning from the interview with 
Ralph, and how such knowledge would affect all 
of them; how Ralph had information which 
they were longing to hear, but which he pre- 
sumed was already known to them. A stranger 
may often bring new light upon a subject, com- 
ing as he does without the tacit understanding 
of past occurrences which exists among those 
closely related, or thrown continually into each 
other’s society. In this case, it would probably 
not have devolved upon the newcomer to pene- 
trate the truth, had it not been that Adelina was 
anxious to have the matter settled in some way ; 
for the suspense accompanying her utter ignor- 
ance of the reason of Ralph’s strange conduct 
was telling even upon her strong constitution, 
when she might have withstood the ravages of 
physical pain alone. If she was miserable, 
there was certainly cause for the same emotion 
in Ralph. He knew of nothing to explain, 
while Adelina was deterred from rendering 
any explanation solely on his account. The 
explanation was simple enough, though most 
unusual. Much anxiety would have been spared 
the whole household, had anyone thought of 


55 


A Startling Revelation. 

investigating; but who dreams of asking for 
information supposedly already possessed? 
Soon the doctor entered, pausing on the thresh- 
old before he advanced into the room, to say 
meekly : 

'‘What is the countersign ? May I enter with- 
out it?” 

This was said with an assumption of pro- 
found timidity at the stillness which reigned 
supreme, and which he affected to believe was 
exacted by the inmates of the room. 

"Oh, yes ; come in,” said Adelina, who was 
the only one ready to reply. 

Youth often takes the initiative, not from 
egoism, but its environment may have fostered 
the tendency to fill the hiatus which otherwise 
might ensue. So much dependence had ever 
been placed upon Adelina’s executive ability, 
that this, accompanied by her friends’ desire to 
produce her happiness in every conceivable 
way, and to advance her mentally as well, had 
produced in the girl most naturally the capabil- 
ity to meet all the demands of society, also con- 
tingencies of greater import. 

"Where did you leave Ralph?” she continued. 

"Oh, he has gone on one of his interminable 


56 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

rambles,” was the response. “For the last 
few months he has contended that long walks 
were the one thing necessary for physical 
fatigue. All of my theories have been set at 
naught. It was in vain that I reminded him of 
my superior knowledge. In the end he almost 
succeeded in making me believe he was right, 
such is the power of continued effort. When- 
ever he found he was regaining strength, he 
would undo all of my work, remonstrate as I 
would.” 

Something had surely happened since Ade- 
lina left the two friends. 

Dr. Ellis now bore a most radiant look, 
which was not easy to reconcile with the inter- 
view she knew had taken place. 

“Now, at least,” resumed Dr. Ellis, “I am en- 
abled to understand things which baffled even 
my acumen.” 

Of course, he ended by making all laugh, 
which they felt quite ready to do, for there was 
something in the doctor’s manner which in- 
vited mirth. Each one knew that had there 
not been an alleviating solution of the trouble, 
the informant would not have been able to 
throw off the despondency which was fast be- 


A Startling Revelation. 


57 


coming the possession of all. And now, that 
something had happened, the reaction was 
great, and had to be manifested in some man- 
ner by the party. Despite the learning of Dr. 
Ellis, Ralph's case had certainly puzzled him. 
Before undertaking the case he had been 
warned of the condition of his prospective pa- 
tient; otherwise, the doctor would not have 
been on the outlook for alarming symptoms. 

It chanced, however, that such a warning had 
been entirely unnecessary, for the alarming 
symptoms had never come. Ralph’s condition, 
on the whole, had been encouraging, except as 
Dr. Ellis stated, when there had been weakness 
resulting from over-exertion, a natural se- 
quence. 

Ralph had often alluded to his residence in 
Australia, and Dr. Ellis knew him to be ingenu- 
ous ; and, besides, there could be no reason in 
wishing to prove an alibi. Dr. Ellis had it on 
the authority of well-known persons that at that 
identical time his young friend was, unfortun- 
ately, at one of the most prominent hospitals 
of America. In attributing similar statements 
of Ralph to mental weakness, the physician ex- 
perienced a startling sensation. Suppose there 


58 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

had been some mistake. He secretly believed 
Ralph’s mind to be as free from disease as his 
own; how it had been with Ralph before his 
acquaintance with him, Dr. Ellis was unpre- 
pared to say. The latter, believing himself to 
be competent to form some estimate of anal- 
ogous cases, had in response to an urgent ap- 
peal from certain hospital officials, taken the 
affair into his own hands; consequently Dr. 
Ellis was scarcely to be censured for the condi- 
tions which arose. A letter had been sent noti- 
fying him that his services would not be requis- 
ite ; that the late patient had died after a pain- 
less illness incompatible with the usual attacks 
accompanied by superior strength. The letter 
did not reach Dr. Ellis. He learned that his 
surmises had been correct; for Ralph had just 
enlightened him ; not only sanctioning his con- 
clusions but revealing to him that which truly 
gave more pleasure than the veriest mines of 
knowledge would. Now he knew that the es- 
teem that he had given his young friend be- 
cause of admirable characteristic traits might 
be endorsed by respect for his friend’s mental 
ability as well. 

Dr. Ellis felt that it was time to share his 


A Startling Revelation. 


59 


newly acquired knowledge with the others who 
were equally iterested in Ralph, so he straight- 
way proceeded to relieve the suspense he knew 
that they were enduring. 

“I think that Ralph purposely absented him- 
self. I proposed that I should be the one to 
give an account of our conversation,” he said, 
addressing his anxious auditors. “You, of 
course, know that Ralph had a twin brother. 
I did not, however, learn it until a few moments 
ago. Well, that brother died six months ago, 
just the time I was first brought into contact 
with Ralph. True, the latter mentioned the 
death of his brother, and occasional depression 
seemed only natural. I was, however, on the 
alert to discover any sign of what I had been 
told was Ralph’s malady. Not once did such a 
sign appear. He told me he had recovered 
from fever just before his return to America. 
As you, in your letter had spoken of fever also. 
Miss Tracy, his information coincided with 
yours, except in point of time. I first thought 
that there was a lapse of time of which he was 
oblivious. This set me to thinking, and while 
I believed ere long that his mind was unaffected, 
the differing accounts given me, together with 


6o A Singular Metamorphosis. 


chronological errors, were most bewildering. 
How could so many believe themselves in the 
right? Ralph certainly had confidence in him- 
self, and your statements were not to be doubt- 
ed, Miss Tracy. Then, too, the hospital officials 
would not have given an incorrect account of 
his sojourn in their retreat.” 

“It must have been annoying, certainly,” in- 
terposed Mary, with ready sympathy. 

“Yes, and to think proper investigation 
would have spared each one of us so much,” 
returned the doctor, with emotion. “It does 
not seem that we ought to censure ourselves 
very much, for we never dreamed of investigat- 
ing what we were positive was correct. Ralph’s 
brother, Edward, died in the hospital, believed 
by all to be Ralph himself. I left the city soon, 
accompanied by the real Ralph. He, little 
knowing that you had seen so much of Edward, 
decided to have him buried in the place where 
he had died. Ralph must have been overcome 
with sorrow, for, otherwise, he would have 
written of his loss to you, his friends. He had 
a short illness almost simultaneously. Though 
he was able soon to walk rather long distances. 


A Startling Revelation. 6i 

for an acknowledged sick person, he really has 
been far from strong.” 

“Ralph was never one to parade his griefs,” 
said Adelina, “probably, he thought he would 
see us soon, and give the news of his brother.” 

“Edward, alias Ralph, was never dangerous 
to those around him. That was why he was 
never taken to an asylum. There were inter- 
vals of perfect sanity,” said Mary. 

“Ralph’s untimely return to America has 
caused all of this miserable misunderstanding. 
Unfortunate, too, was the miscarriage of the 
letter which informed me of Edward’s demise. 
When I discovered Ralph in the hospital, I took 
him away as quietly as possible, having already 
that authority. Ralph answered to all descrip- 
tions, and the authorities having already writ- 
ten to me, never thought of repeating their in- 
formation. Probably I was looked on as a per- 
sonal friend of Ralph. They knew him to be all 
right as far as mind was concerned. How 
could they have thought of explaining the 
affair to two sane people? Ralph was not 
moved to a different town until he was stronger. 
He did not resent my care of him, but accom- 
panied me home. Had I noted anything strange. 


t2 A Singular Metamorphosis, 

I should have reconciled the strange phenome- 
non with what I believed was my patient’s con- 
dition.” 

Dr. Ellis here took time to recover himseif, 
and remained looking passively out of the win- 
dow, until Adelina asked : 

“Where, then has Ralph been all of this 
time? In Australia?” 

Now that she had heard all, she seemed un- 
able to take the evidence her aural sense had 
given her. 

“Yes, he has been in Australia until a few 
months ago. Hereafter, I shall require of every 
man his brother’s name before making his 
acquaintance.” 

“How did Ralph take it when you had told 
him all?” asked Adelina. 

“He was disinclined to believe the whole 
story, of course. After I had succeeded in con- 
vincing him of its authenticity, he simply said, 
‘What a friend you have been.’ You can imag- 
ine how I felt. To have believed such things 
of a friend, and to be exalted for it, too, made 
me very uncomfortable. The dear fellow for- 
gave. I felt it in a single grasp of the hand. 


The Morrow. 

“No/* I am not ill, Hugh, but did you see 
that lady?’* 

“I saw no lady in particular, father.” 

“The one who just passed us,” 

“Oh, yes, I do remember, but I do not know 
lier name.” 

“Did you see her face?” I asked 

“No, I do not remember, father.” 

“There, Hugh, look quick. Who is she? 
Where did she come from ?” 

“Father, father, it is my mother,” he cried, 
as he caught my arm. 

“Hugh, it cannot be; your poor mother is 
gone. It is only a striking resemblance,” I 
added. Hugh did not answer, but his eyes 
were resting on the strange lady’s face. She 
was coming toward us; a gentleman accom- 
panied her. They reached us in a moment. 
The gentleman, Howard De Long, was intro- 
ducing the lady. I bowed, spoke a few words 
and they were gone, leaving Hugh and myself 
more mystified than ever. Where had she 
come from, this lovely being, the exact image 
of my darling wife who was separated from 
me by death ? 


tL A Singular Metamorphosis. 


I seem unable to take it all in. How was it 
you discovered Edward at all?” she asked, 
turning to Harold and Mary. 

“Notices appeared in the papers,” answered 
Harold, “to which we paid little attention at 
first, even though the name was precisely that 
of Ralph ; however, when the notices continued 
to appear and the friends of the young man pal- 
pably declined to come forward, it occurred to 
us that the matter should be investigated. It 
was, and behold the result. I wonder now, if 
in answering the advertisements, we did not do 
it almost entirely from feelings of sentimental- 
ity. We soon thought ourselves justified in 
pursuing inquiries, and yet, how wrong was the 
conclusion we drew.” 

“I think I see the subject of our talk now,” 
interposed the doctor, “surely, some one ought 
to go and meet him.” 

His hand approached his face with a futile 
attempt to hide the smile which would come. 
Adelina’s face was soon mantled with a slight 
blush; but, nevertheless, she bravely rose and 
made a motion to act upon the suggestion, 
knowing that all eyes were upon her, and that 
the doctor’s remark was made more from a de- 


A Startling Revelation. 65 

sire to note the effect of it than from any expec- 
tation that it would be materialized. 

“As we are the ones who have unintention- 
ally wronged Ralph, surely, we are the ones to 
make the reparation to him, poor boy,” said 
Adelina. 

The “poor boy” was said as though “poor 
dear” was what was really meant. That inter- 
pretation may only have been from undue ex- 
ercise of the imaginative faculty — we shall not 
presume to say. No one would have denied 
the allegation more firmly or indignantly than 
Adelina. At any rate, she did not seem to 
weigh long the question as to which one of the 
party was the one to make the advances. If the 
opportunity was fortuitous, it was at least most 
desirable for herself and Ralph, but we shall 
come to that later. 

It was not easy for the girl to go immedi- 
ately to Ralph, but the desire to talk with him 
was the dominant sensation, and lesser ills gave 
way to personal desire. It would almost have 
appeared that the suggestion of Dr. Ellis was 
premeditated, and not wholly disinterested, for 
ere long Miss Tracy and he were seen going in 
the opposite direction from the way Adelina 


66 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

had taken. At Harold’s instigation, Mary had 
exchanged letters with Dr. Ellis, but they per- 
tained only to the condition and affairs of Ed- 
ward Bamford. This scarcely justified the 
doctor in his sudden interest in his unknown 
correspondent who was at present a most de- 
sirable companion, in his opinion. Had the let- 
ters been of a personal character, Mary might 
unconsciously have made them contain a clue, 
and probably an interesting one, to her indi- 
viduality. There was really nothing to inspire 
special interest, unless a thorough knowledge 
of orthography and rhetoric would count. It 
seems they did, or was it something else that 
had transpired ? And they did not talk of Ralph 
now. Perhaps the reason for that was they had 
been discussing him for so long. 

Nothing was said that a third person could 
not profitably, or, at least zvillingly, have list- 
ened to. If, with the wish to tease Adelina, 
there had been a covert reason for the doctor’s 
maneuver, let us not censure him too severely. 
Ralph might really be feeling lonely, left out in 
the cold, and so forth. Strange, how he could 
enter into Ralph’s feelings, and thus analyse 
them, was it not? And yet, when we consider 


A Startling Revelation. 67 

that he had made the mind, with its various 
emotions the study of years, it was not odd. It 
seems less strange when we consider that he 
was experiencing feelings similar to those he 
attributed to his young friend; not that Dr. 
Ellis had been lonely, strictly speaking, for 
propinquity to others was certain when they 
were in the same room with him. There is 
isolation in the largest crowds; in fact, such 
environment only intensifies at times our sense 
of desolation. When one is dying of nostalgia, 
of little avail is it then, that others about us 
speak our native tongue. 

Well, this strategist was far from dying, but 
the accomplishment of his designs to converse 
with Mary alone, certainly gave him a radiant 
look, which betokened the best of terms between 
himself and the entire sentient world. Why he 
was giving a detailed account of certain events 
in his life to one he had known so short a time, 
we shall not endeavor to determine. Suffice it 
to say, that he was doing so, and Mary was 
listening with keen interest to whatever he 
might have to say regarding his past life, never 
questioning why the information was elicited. 
When but a lad he had been thrown upon his 


68 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

own resources, and, perhaps, this knowledge 
had begotten in Mary a pity for which she 
could scarcely give an adequate reason even to 
herself, had such a reason been demanded of 
her. A great amount of pity she had always 
possessed, much more than the average person ; 
and yet, in this instance, the subject of her pity 
had long passed the time when that pity was 
really needed, though when is true sympathy 
ever unwelcome or repulsed? Intuitively we 
know when it is real. Strange, is it not, that 
knowing this we still proffer the sympathy 
which is not genuine, and but a poor substitute 
for true fellow-feeling, and which we know 
must be detected as such by him who is the en- 
forced recipient of it? Here the interest was 
not affected. Mary began to ask herself the 
cause of her sudden interest in this stranger, 
but she soon concluded that it must be solely 
due to his propinquity to Ralph during the lat- 
ter’s illness. Of course it was that. She felt 
relieved to know the cause, and to know that 
the excuse was sufficient — ^but was it? 


CHAPTER VII. 


IN WHICH TWO COUPLES TAKE A WALK. ' 

Dr. Ellis proceeded to tell Mary of his boy- 
hood; how he was employed by a bookseller, 
who, in return for the lad’s services, only con- 
tinued to withhold the merited compensation. 

'T remained with him for two years,” he 
went on to say. ‘'Of course I was fed, and 
clothed, after a fashion, but I had no other in- 
centive to work with him except fear.” 

“Why did you not run away?” questioned 
Mary, with reason. 

“I did, but only to suffer the more from each 
attempt to gain my freedom. I was invariably 
caught. Banks would hear no petitions, and 
the curious crowd who witnessed my captures 
thought little of a runaway lad. As for inter- 
fering, why, the thought of coming between 
father and son never entered their heads. 
When Banks insisted that he was my father, he 
was believed, and the word of a child was noth- 
ing. Each time I tried to escape I was flogged. 


70 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

not before others, for the man was too sharp 
for that, and was all kindliness when there were 
spectators. I was threatened with worse ills if 
I did not obey. I can see Banks yet, and hear 
his voice, as he said, ‘You see, your word is 
doubted. I can prove that you have appren- 
ticed yourself to me.’ Oh, the horror of it!” 

“Was the man usually cruel?” 

“No ; only when I crossed him or appeared 
dissatisfied. It was the humiliation of it that 
troubled me, child that I was. I was con- 
stantly watched, and seldom allowed to play 
with boys of my own age. I believe now that 
he feared I should discover that he had no 
power to control my movements.” 

“And how did you finally obtain your 
release?” 

“Through the death of Banks, though I 
would have effected my escape sooner or 
later, I feel sure. Banks died, and his nephew 
fell heir to all that the former had so carefully 
hoarded. That same nephew had not cultivated 
the society of his uncle while living, strange 
though you may think it. Afterwards I took a 
position in a drug store ; the study of pharmacy 


Two Couples. 71 

doubtless produced in me a desire to use the 
medicines I had been analyzing.” 

Mr. Bayne here strolled past the two who 
were thus earnestly engaged in converse, and, 
noticing that they were too much engrossed to 
observe his proximity, ejaculated, in an under- 
tone, “Well, I declare! Dot is beginning young, 
if her secret had aught to do with this affair. 
She certainly gave me the impression that her 
secret was a most important one, but who 
would have dreamed that she meant this — and 
she but a baby?” Here sheer astonishment 
ended the monologue, for ere he had taken 
many steps another couple appeared, walking 
toward him. “Now, which did Dot mean?” 
he began again; then he checked himself, and 
turned to see if he had erred; but, no, there 
were the two behind him, just where he had 
left them, or rather, passed them, as much in- 
terested as ever, each with the other. In front 
he beheld this new couple possessing an equal 
appreciation of the advantages of communica- 
tion with a desirable companion. That each 
did think the other a desirable companion was 
not to be doubted for a moment. Dot, in the 
meantime, had not consciously betrayed her se- 


72 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

cret or broken her word ; still, older people may 
guess at childhood’s secrets without trying to 
elicit confidences, and this child was habituated 
to the feeling that her father must share her 
thoughts. Now, the very fact that there was 
something to conceal, perhaps for the first time 
in her little life, only tended to give her an air 
of importance which was in itself a betrayal. 
Poor Dot had followed her father around until 
in pity he questioned his diminutive daughter. 
A few words were all that were necessary to 
give him an inkling of what had passed. 

“How did 00 know. Papa ?” This was equiv- 
alent to saying that his surmises were correct, 
but he comforted the innocent informant by tell- 
ing her that her promise had not been broken, 
so that she ran off, relieved that Papa should 
know, and at the same time congratulating her- 
self upon her ability to act as confidante. With 
an omniscient father, what was she to do ? 

Mr. Bayne would have passed on with only a 
cheerful salutation, had not Adelina seen his 
wistful look, and kindly proposed that she and 
Ralph should retrace their steps and join him 
in his homeward walk. Was there ever one 
who enjoyed human companionship more than 


Two Couples. 


73 


he, or, for that matter, the companionship of 
animals either? He seemed to love all things 
and wanted to be with them, but it was only his 
friends who could really appreciate the man. 
There was a look in his eyes which appealed to 
one; and why? Not because they asked for 
pity, but rather that they gave it, even when 
you knew that he was suffering himself. His 
wife had died when Pet was two years old, and 
Mr. Bayne had hidden his grief nobly; yet the 
tell-tale eyes seemed at times to hold depths of 
sorrow patiently borne, for would he not see 
her again, that one who had been to him all 
love and tenderness ? Had not the light in her 
dying eyes bidden him “Wait?” What is the 
look which comes to our loved ones’ dying 
eyes ? Is it a look of surprise as they are about 
to enter into a new life? Surely that look comes 
but once in a life, and that when the earthly 
life is drawing to its close, to be renewed in the 
glory of an endless one. How strange it is, 
that we, who have watched and been at the bed- 
side of those loved ones, can follow no further, 
can never penetrate that mystery or lift the cur- 
tain till we, too, are called to take the same 
pathway. We turn to find the impress of a 


74 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

smile stamped on the face, giving to it peace, 
and seeming to tell of contentment and well- 
earned repose. 

Often Mr. Bayne walked about the Tracy 
grounds, and he was doing so now, with the 
palpable hope that he might meet one, at least, 
of the household. He never thought of in- 
truding, and it did not occur to him that his 
conversation could be welcomed save by those 
who were especially interested in him, and who 
had honored him by their friendship and leni- 
ency, as he chose to express it. He had no 
cause for this overweening modesty. Few in 
rural districts could be more beloved than he, 
not that there is not as much individual ca- 
pacity for loving, but aggregately there cannot 
be as much love, owing to the restricted popu- 
lace. Individually, he was certainly the object 
of much love and veneration. Wherever he 
went he appeared to carry peace, without appar- 
ent effort. He may have begun by cultivating 
with persistency the means of giving comfort, 
but later one felt that whatsoever he gave of 
comfort was given spontaneously. He loved 
all ; what did it matter if they did not love in 
return ? His mission was to alleviate suffering 


75 


Two Couples. 

when possible; if not, then to impart such 
truths as would enable the sufferer to bear the 
anguish, mental or physical, as the case might 
be; not, as before stated, tO' question whether 
the love he bestowed so freely was in any meas- 
ure returned. That was no concern of his. In 
his own immediate family he was in a 
measure dependent upon the attention of each 
member. He had always lived with it. Though 
it is true that that affection may have been 
taken naturally, yet he was always grateful for 
it; the fullest reciprocation followed. When 
the crucial test came he was willing to surren- 
der all without a murmur. Would the curious 
onlookers pronounce him heartless in conse- 
quence? There had never been, and it is safe 
to add there never would be, a crowd curious 
alone as to his welfare, provided he had ever 
mingled with the crowd. Respect attended him 
wherever he went, whether it was in the home- 
liest of cottages or at the most elaborate of 
functions. The latter he did not have the op- 
portunity or the desire to attend, except at 
long intervals. Mr. Bayne was not solicitous 
regarding the extent of the intervals ; the^longer 
the space, the better. 


y6 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

^‘Were you going to run off without even 
asking how I was?” queried Adelina, reproach- 
fully. 

‘‘That question was answered the moment I 
beheld you,” responded the rector, with ad- 
mirable policy. 

“What a flatterer you are. Of all people in 
the world, you are the last who should use 
deceit.” 

“Is not what I intimate most true, Mr. Barn- 
ford?” asked Mr. Bayne, turning to him for 
confirmation of his asseveration. 

“Most assuredly,” returned Ralph, adding 
mischievously, “Miss Fiske does not appear to 
think it possible that you may refer to the 
healthiness her countenance portrays, and not 
the beauty of it.” This remark showed that he 
and Adelina must be on the best of terms. A 
few hours previous he would not have ventured 
such an utterance, nor would he have had even 
the inclination, after the estrangement resulting 
from what he was pleased to call Adelina’s cruel 
treatment of him. Afterwards he would have 
done anything to condone for having had a 
single derogatory thought of her. 

“What in the world have you there?” said 


Two Couples. 


77 


Adelina. Could she believe the evidence of her 
eyes ? If so, then Mr. Bayne had taken to the 
perusal of such books as related to the latest 
feminine modes of dress. Without imperti- 
nence she could ask about them, when her 
elderly friend was displaying the plates with 
such openness and disregard of public opinion. 

“Oh, these ? They are for Dot. Miss Carey, 
the mantua-maker, had told her to stop for 
them, but as I chanced to be passing that way 
I thought I might act as purveyor with equal 
safety.’’ This was said in a deprecatory man- 
ner, as though he had been caught in some act 
of which he ought to be ashamed; but until 
Adelina put the question to him it had never 
occurred to him that the carrying of such lit- 
erary matter and accompanying illustrations 
was not the most natural thing for a minister 
to be interested in. 

“Dot, you see,” he continued, in an explan- 
atory way, “cuts out the pictures. Doubtless 
she will read about them when she is older.” 
This was intended for Adelina’s benefit, but she 
pretended to ignore the fact. 

“If she does wait to profit by their sugges- 
tions until she is older, her outfit will be a little 


LofC. 


78 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

beyond the times,” Adelina could not resist say- 
ing. 

‘'She calls them paper dolls,” he further elu- 
cidated. 

“Well,” said Adelina, laughing heartily, as 
they reached the rectory gate, “tell Dot I’ll help 
keep house for the dolls.” 

“Wasn’t he an old dear?” cried she, ecstatic- 
ally, watching Mr. Bayne’s retreating form. 

“Who beside would have thought of carry- 
ing such things for a child ?” 

“I, that is, I would do as much for you,” 
Ralph promptly responded. 

“Oh, would you? I have a notion to put 
3^ou to the test, and see what would come of 
your fine promises. I suppose I, in turn, should 
be expected to follow the child’s example, sim- 
ply to save your feelings, after you had so in- 
convenienced yourself, and betake myself to 
dolls’ housekeeping, too.” 

“Why not do it in reality — on a larger 
scale?” retorted Ralph, who had the propensity 
for turning things to his own advantage. Ade- 
lina said nothing. Ralph, feeling that he had 
possibly scored in his favor, continued to ex- 
patiate on the pleasures of housekeeping. 


79 


Two Couples. 

“I do not think that your experience can quite 
justify you in giving an opinion on the sub- 
ject/' replied Adelina, congratulating herself 
on not letting him have everything his OAvn 
way. 

“No; but experience teaches, and how am I 
to gain it alone? I am very docile, dear, and 
quite willing to learn of you." 

Adelina softened visibly. “Perhaps," she 
said, thoughtfully, “if you had me to take care 
of you, you would be more prudent concerning 
your health." 

“I am sure I would," eagerly. Even Dr. El- 
lis says I am not careful enough." 

“Why do you say even Dr. Ellis ? It would 
be more exact to say Dr. Ellis, together with all 
rational beings, believes that of you." 

“But you see I do not flatter myself that all 
rational beings do think of me," returned Ralph. 
“If you think of me, it does not seem to signify 
whether the rest do or not." 

“How ungrateful to the rest of your 
friends!" she cried, wilfully misunderstanding 
him. 

“You know well enough what I mean, dear. 
I could live without them, and their opinions." 


8o A Singular Metamorphosis, 

“What a delicately implied compliment. You 

could live without me, too, if you only thought 



so. 

“But if I do not think so, it comes to the same 
thing in the end. We are not happy unless we 
think we are.” 

“I don’t know whether happiness is pro- 
duced by asking ourselves continually if we 
have reached that state. It seems to me the less 
concern we give ourselves regarding our own 
welfare, the happier we are in reality. I don’t 
instigate improvidence, however. After all, 
happiness may not be the best for us,” she 
added, virtuously. I wonder if she would have 
been willing to resign her present contentment. 

“Well, surely you would prefer for me to 
have joy if possible, and you certainly know 
wherein my happiness consists.” 

“Oh, Ralph,” said Adelina, with a sus- 
picious moisture about the eyes, “can you ever 
forgive me for the horrid thoughts I had about 
you?” 

“On one condition,” he responded. “I only 
wonder now, dear, how you could have had so 
much patience with an alleged lunatic.” 

“Don’t, please, Ralph.” Seeing that she was 


Two Couples. 


8i 


really troubled, he hastened to say, “Dearest, 
it is all right now ; you were not at fault/' 

“ril never again, as long as I live, judge any 
one or anything by appearances.” 

“I, too, have learned a lesson, for was I not 
misjudging you when you were doing all in 
your power to save my feelings at the expense 
of your own ?” 

It was in the evening when our friends were 
assembled in the little church of which Mr. 
Bayne was the rector. Adelina and Ralph 
were ushered in first, then came Miss Tracy 
and a stranger, not her brother, as was taken 
note of by the wondering congregation ; in fact, 
Mr. Tracy had taken a seat in the rear of the 
church, and had permitted this stranger to mo- 
nopolize his sister. Such a thing had never 
been known to occur, in the recollection of the 
Deanmouth people; but as the service had 
already commenced, surely that fact ought not 
to have been taken cognizance of, nor ought the 
congregation to have been diverted from the 
lesson Mr. Bayne was proceeding to read. The 
two were utterly oblivious of the intense in- 
terest they were creating. Had Dr. Ellis no- 
ticed the movements betokening restlessness. 


82 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

proofs of inattentiveness, he would not for a 
moment have thought that he, a perfect stram 
ger, was eliciting such interest ; and yet it was 
for that very reason that such was the case. 

But soon there was not one in the congrega- 
tion that was not all attention, hanging upon 
each word of the minister’s with breathless in- 
terest, and impatiently awaiting the next. It 
was an address, not a sermon, and Mr. Bayne 
had entitled it “The Sea of Misunderstanding.” 
How that struck home to five of his auditors ! 
Yet Mr. Bayne was ignorant of the circum- 
stances which were so vividly recalled to some 
of his hearers by his words. Strange to say, 
not one of the friends so much as glanced at 
any of the others, but each knew what was go- 
ing on in the minds of the others. Had the 
minister himself ever misjudged any one? I 
think not ; yet why should he dwell at such 
length upon this subject, and so judiciously in- 
terweave the text from whence had arisen his 
ideas ? That earnest air, that placid face, 
seemed to bear conviction to those who heard, 
and it might not be going too far to say that 
such might have been the case had he been con- 
versing in a foreign tongue. I say “conversing,” 


Two Couples. 


83 

because it always seemed to his auditors that he 
was only talking to them just as he would if he 
had not been occupying the pulpit. That is 
why his manner and the dulcet tones of his 
voice had in them alone a certain inexplicable 
power to produce conviction, even though the 
purport of the words had been misinterpreted ; 
not that he made use of abstruse statements to 
display his own acumen, as some speakers ob- 
viously do, for he sought only to convey in the 
simplest manner to others the truths he had 
already ascertained. His mission was being 
fulfilled. 

All who had attended the service were very 
quiet on their return home. Perhaps Adelina 
and Ralph found more to say than any of the 
others. 

Two months later they were on board a 
steamer bound for Liverpool. They were on 
the deck, and Adelina had produced a letter 
from Mary, for about the fifth time. She was 
reading it to her husband, and both were enjoy- 
ing its contents as though ignorant of what had 
already been laughed over and discussed a 
score of times. Ralph was infinitely amused to 
find that Adelina was not even looking at what 


84 A Singular Metamorphosis. 

she was supposed to be reading — to tell the 
truth, she knew from memory all that Mary 
had written. 

“How many times has she mentioned Dr. El- 
lis?’' asked Ralph. 

“One, two, three,” counted Adelina, “four — 
oh, do you remember Tom Burnett?” she said, 
breaking off, and losing count, as her eyes 
caught the young man’s name. That part she 
had not read to Ralph before. 

“Yes, I remember him, but what has Mary 
said about him ? I thought some one else took 
up her whole attention — and letter.” 

“Oh, it is only some of her foolishness. Tom 
is much interested in Lucy Malcolm.” 

“But that is not all,” pursued Ralph, seeing 
that she was keeping something back. 

“You provoking boy.” Her looks belied 
her words. “If you must know, Mary only 
said he was consoling himself with Lucy.” 

“And you wanted to keep the knowledge of 
that conquest from me?” he asked, readily 
taking in the situation — and her hand. 

“No, dear. I’ll never keep anything from 
you now, I fear.” 

“And you don’t regret anything?” 


Two Couples. 


85 


^^You surely don’t mean Tom?” 

This was said with such intense surprise that 
Ralph could not refrain from laughing; how- 
ever, he added, “Are you sure you will never be 
sorry you married me?” 

“Never,” Adelina said, vehemently. 

And the answer seemed to satisfy him. 



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